


Murphys Squared

by Queenafoster



Category: Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4701536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenafoster/pseuds/Queenafoster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How bad can one day get...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Adam, get up! We're late! The clock didn't go off!" Hannah jumped out of bed like a bolt of lightning. It was almost 8:00, and school started at 8:30. "Adam! Get up!"  
  
She rushed down the upstairs hallway. "Guys! Get up, we're late! You're gonna be late for school!" She banged on Crane and Daniel's door and then Evan and Ford's. "Get up! Now!!"  
  
Adam was staring out from their bedroom, hair sticking up in twelve directions. "What time is it?"

"8:00! Guthrie! Get up!" She pushed past her husband and yanked her robe off the back of the door. Adam started jerking on clothes as he finally seemed to realize the mess they were in. Vaguely, she noticed rain beating against the windows. Not only late but raining. Check that…pouring.

She heard the boys run into the bathroom, yelling at each other. They didn't shut the door. Okay, she just wouldn't be going that way for a while as they rotated in and out of the shower. One thing she didn't know before moving into a house of brothers was that they had no modesty at all with each other. She'd quickly learned to wear blinders to keep from noticing…stuff. This was definitely a blinder morning.

"Doggone it, Hannah, why didn't ya set the alarm?"

Hannah's head whipped around. "I did!"

"Then why didn't it go off?!"

"You can't be bothered to check it when you come to bed? I set it!"

"Well, I guess you didn't!"

"Maybe you unset it stumbling around the room last night!"

"I didn't mean to trip over the end of the bed!"

Hannah narrowed her eyes in anger but took a deep breath. They didn't have time for an argument. She clamped her teeth together. "I'll be downstairs!" She hurried out before either of them said anything else. Especially something she'd have to apologize for later. She was certain she set the alarm. She remembered last night perfectly: bathroom, chest, alarm, book, bed. She could see it in her head.

Or…was she confusing it with every other night?

She also remembered Adam stumbling in the dark and falling against that same chest of drawers. And the noise of items on top being jumbled.

Rushing to the kitchen, she quit worrying about last night. They had to get the guys out the door as quickly as possible. She saw books on the kitchen sofa and wondered which pile belonged to which kid. She decided to let the boys figure it out, but she could at least get the books ready to be picked up on the fly. She grabbed a stack and put it on the table, one after another, until four piles were lined up waiting for their owner. Then she hung jackets and slickers over the back of the kitchen chairs ready to be grabbed.  
Upstairs, she heard pounding feet, frantic yelling, and doors and drawers being slammed. What a mess. She scrambled to figure out what they could eat. Then she heard a horn beep.

"Daniel! Evan! Troy's here! Hurry!" She heard them coming down the stairs. In seconds, they pounded through the laundry room. "Head's up!"

They were quick, Adam's brothers, and they turned as one to catch the apples. Hair still wet and shirts untucked, they grabbed their books and jackets and ran to the front door with a fast, "Thanks, Hannah!" echoing in their wake.

"'Bye, guys!"

A quick glance at the clock…8:15. She grabbed a couple more apples and waited for the last two. They weren't gonna make it. Guthrie had already missed his bus. But then she heard more feet on the stairs, and Ford, Guthrie, and Adam came flying through, looking just exactly like what they were: three guys who had badly overslept. Ford and Guthrie grabbed their apples, scooped up their books and jackets, and ran out the front door, Adam on their heels with keys and a dark look for his wife. Hannah narrowed her eyes. If he thought she was ready to concede, he'd better think again.

**SB4SB**

Adam stared through the rain, wishing the wipers worked better. At least he knew the roads like the back of his hand. Mostly, he worried about other drivers. And how much tread was still on the tires...

Normally, Ford was picked up by a neighbor on her way to drop her daughter at the bus stop for the junior high in Avery. But the arrangement was: if Ford wasn't waiting by the mail box, she didn't call or come up to the house. She was doing Adam a big favor by picking up Ford, and he'd insisted she not risk Priscilla missing the bus because Ford was sick or running late or working at home that day.

The elementary school where Guthrie was in sixth grade ran a bus right in front of the house. Why that bus ran so close to the Circle Bar Seven, and the junior and high school buses didn't, had never made much sense, but there wasn't much Adam could do about it. At least Daniel and Evan had a friend who picked them up, and Adam had been able to get Ford a regular lift to his bus. But they sure messed up this morning by missing the alarm.

Hannah's suggestion that Adam was responsible was just…ridiculous. And anyway, he didn't mean to trip over the foot of the bed. He'd stubbed his toe and fallen against the chest. He didn't remember anything falling or being turned over on top. Or not much. Besides, even if it had…didn't necessarily mean it was the alarm clock.

Coming to the last stop where Ford might catch his bus, Adam could see the vehicle just pulling to a stop. "Ford, get ready!"

"See ya!" With that, Ford jumped from the truck before it came to a complete stop. He sprinted to the bus just as the last kid in line climbed on. Seeing the doors close behind him, Adam sighed in relief that three of the boys would probably make it to class on time. Maybe not as clean or neat as usual, but they should at least get to school.

Guthrie was another story. Going half way to Avery to get Ford on the bus had taken them in the opposite direction from the elementary school in Murphys, and there was no way on God's green earth that Adam would be able to get Guthrie there before the bell rang.

**SB4SB**

Ford blew out a breath as the doors shut behind him. This was the last stop where he had any chance of catching the bus. And it had been really close. If Adam wasn't such a good driver…

Still, Ford was barely put together. He and Evan had vaulted out of bed when Hannah banged on their door. They'd bumped and tripped and run over each other getting ready. Basically, they'd stepped into the shower, brushed their teeth, thrown on clothes that might or might not have been theirs, and flown down the stairs. Evan had beaten him but only 'cause he weighed more and could toss Ford around like a stuffed animal. Ford glanced down and realized his shirt wasn't buttoned right. And it was sticking to him. Wonder if it was 'cause he was still wet when he put it on or 'cause of the rain. Didn't matter really one way or the other.

"Ford?" Cleo called out from about half way back, and he made his way down the aisle.

"Hey, Cleo." Ford felt a stupid grin break out across his face and couldn't care less. They hadn't exactly discussed it, but Ford considered Cleo his girl. His heart went all floppy whenever he was around her. And she made a point of keeping dances open for his invitation. And she…usually…saved him a seat on the bus.

"Priscilla said you weren't there, so I thought you weren't coming to school today."

Ford offered a little shrug, "We overslept."

"Oh." She looked at the girl sitting next to her. "Well, Cindy needed a place to sit…"

Ford couldn't blame her for not holding his seat. "Sure. I'll see ya later." He pushed on down the aisle. "Hey, Billy. Can I sit here?"

Ford started rearranging his clothes. A glance down showed he'd managed to get three buttons together, and none of them matched up correctly. As he worked to set things right, water dripped off his nose. Reflexively, he reached up and realized that his hair was plastered to his head, and water was dribbling down his neck. And Cleo had seen him like this.

"Hey, Ford, looking good." The sarcastic voice came from the seat behind him.

Stu Stapleton. Ford breathed a silent sigh. Stu and Kevin Ryland were his friends, but they had a tendency to…well, tease him, but not in a good way. He'd known them forever, being in school together since kindergarten, and the three of them had always been involved in the same activities. But despite all that, Ford felt like Stu and Kevin were older than him—not in age, but experience. They definitely acted more grown up. It had all come to a head the first time he asked Cleo for a date. They made him think he and Cleo had to go all the way, and Ford made an idiot of himself trying to live up to their standards. The amazing thing was that Cleo forgave him for the whole mess.

And Ford had decided to forgive Stu and Kevin. There just weren't that many kids his age out where they lived. It wasn't their fault that Ford didn't have the gumption to stand up to them. Yeah, they pushed, but Ford managed to screw up on his own. He shouldn't hold his bad decision against them just because they suggested it. If Stu and Kevin and their girlfriends were ready for more intimacy, that was their call. Ford knew he and Cleo were right where they wanted and needed to be…except that he was sitting with Billy Jennings instead of her.

And since Stu had said something, Kevin had to poke his iron in the fire, too. "I know it's raining, Ford, but you're soaked."

Ford pulled his shirt away from where it still stuck to him. "I think I was still wet when I put my clothes on." He could hear snickers behind him.

"That's gonna impress Cleo."

Stu's comment made Ford steal a look to where Cleo was laughing at something her seatmate said. It had been a while since he'd ridden the bus with somebody else, and he couldn't help but be disappointed.

"She don't seem real upset to be sitting with Cindy."

Ford tried for nonchalance. "She thought I wasn't coming."

"Seems like she'd have asked Cindy to move." Stu's voice was grating.

Ford felt defensive. "She can sit with whoever she wants."

"She's your girl, ain't she?"

Ford breathed deep, trying not to get riled. "Yeah, she's my girl."

"You shoulda told her to make room."

"Yeah, you got rights."

Ford bit the inside of his lip and watched the rain slewing along the window. Finally, he turned, "Is that why you guys are sitting together instead of with Denise and Missy?"  
Stu rolled his eyes, "I'm done with that chick."

Kevin looked away, but Ford caught a flicker of discontent. He wondered if Kevin was with Stu because his friend was presently without a girlfriend or because Kevin had screwed up with Missy himself. The two boys were wading through girls with startling speed. Maybe Kevin was getting tired of it.

Ford went back to pulling his clothes into shape. While his hands were occupied, he recalled what he'd learned after the screw-up with Cleo at the beginning of the year. His brothers and Hannah set him straight about expectations—their own and what he should expect of himself. Hannah apologized over and over for pushing Ford to ask Cleo on a date. And while he appreciated her regret, he'd wanted to go out with Cleo for a long time. Hannah just recognized what his heart was yearning for and encouraged him to get on with it. And she taught him how to treat a nice girl.

And Adam and Crane talked about standing his ground against peer pressure. They both offered advice about letting the girl have a choice. Crane was still grieving Molly's departure. The two of them talked on the phone a lot, and Ford hoped they would be able to stay together. Adam hadn't quite figured out all that went with being a husband yet. He and Hannah argued a bunch, but they were clearly nuts about each other in spite of the disagreements. They always managed to make up, so Adam wasn't a total failure at the husband thing. And the fact that he managed to talk Hannah into marrying him in the first place just showed he knew something about girls. Ford decided he oughta listen to his brothers instead of his friends when it came to Cleo.

He glanced up front again. Still wished he was sitting with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Brian and Crane had let the other guys hit the head first since they were late for school, and the bathroom was in shambles when Brian finally got in there. Towels, toothbrushes, and water littered every surface. While he wasn't exactly known for neatness, since Hannah moved in and got some control of the house, Brian realized he liked finding things in their right place. Being able to locate what he wanted when he needed it had cut down on wasted time and effort. Looking at the mess left by his brothers, Brian decided to get out of there with a minimum of cleaning. He threw the towels in the tub after a quick swipe of the floor. Hannah would do a much better job anyway. She put Brian's best efforts to shame at every turn.

Unfortunately, he must have missed a puddle or two. Even worse, the bathroom door opened just as he started to slide, putting it in the wrong place when he tried to grab hold. Instead, as the door opened, it knocked his balance off even more, and there was no way to recover. His arms flailed as his feet scrambled for purchase, and down he went, whacking his hand on the sink as he fell.

"Crane! Geez!! What're you trying to do, kill me?"

"You've been in here forever, Brian!"

"Aaahh! Dammit!!" Stabs of pain shot up his arm. Brian held his hand to his chest and tried to keep from yelling.

"Let me see. C'mon, let me see!"

Brian jerked away. "No way!"

"Brian!"

Finally, he relented, "Careful." Damn, it hurt!

Crane was gentle, but the problem was easy to diagnose. Even Brian could see it. Crane was matter-of-fact, "You're thumb's dislocated. I can pop it back in."

Huh-uh. Not a chance. "No way!"

"I can fix it."

Brian lifted one brow skeptically, "You ever done it before?"

"No, but—"

"You're not practicing on me!"

"Quit being such a baby!"

"This is my _right_ thumb, man, and I'm not gonna be your guinea pig!"

Crane started to laugh. "Then you're gonna have to see Meade or go to the ER."

Maybe figuring Brian wouldn't insist…but figuring wrong. "Fine, let's go."

"Brian, it's pouring!"

"It's _my_ thumb! You're driving!"

Crane just blinked, clearly stunned, but Brian was adamant. Crane rolled his eyes but finally left the bathroom with Brian following. "Hannah, I gotta take Brian to Doc Meade's!"

She was still in her robe as she hurried to the bottom of the stairs, her hair messy from where she'd rolled out of bed. "What happened?"

Crane might've tried to hide the sarcasm. "He _fell_ —"

"He pushed the bathroom door into me, and I fell!"

"His thumb is dislocated. I could reset it, but—"

"You're not touching my thumb! For all I know, you don't even remember how to do it right!"

Crane bit his lip, "We'll take the Jeep."

Hannah eyed Brian carefully, "It'll be wet…"

Crane breathed heavy and pursed his lips. "I'll go put the top on and try to dry it off."

Hannah watched as Crane left and then turned to Brian as he tried to keep from groaning. Her voice was tentative, "I'll get you an ice pack."

**SB4SB**

Daniel shook his head, and drops of water went flying, causing Evan to flinch back.

"Hey, cut it out!"

Daniel bit down on his grin. He couldn't help teasing Evan. Every opportunity had to be seized. Kind of his job as big brother. Of course, Evan took advantage of the same whenever possible. His job as little brother. Daniel expected nothing less.

What a day. First, they all overslept, leading to a shower lasting about fifteen seconds, running the toothbrush through his mouth, pulling on clothes, and flying out the door as Troy was about to drive off. Thankfully, Hannah had their jackets and books ready. Wait a second… Daniel looked at the books on Evan's lap. "You got my stack."

"No, I don't— Wait. This is yours, but geometry's mine."

Daniel looked at his own books as Evan handed him history. "Civics is you." The books must have gotten mixed up last night or this morning.

They ran through the parking lot toward school. They were wet despite slickers, and they'd be damp for a while given the chilly weather. Inside, they headed down the hall. He and Evan shared a locker because of its convenient, central location. Daniel's girlfriend, Jennifer Clapp, was waiting as they approached.

"How ya doing?" He started to give her a peck on the cheek, but she pulled away.

"Don't even think about it! You're a jerk, Daniel!"

"What'd I do?" What had he done? He couldn't remember anything…

"I just found out about that _woman_ at the club Saturday night!"

"What woman?"

"Lucy Templeton was there."

"So?"

"So she _saw_ you!"

"Saw me what?" Daniel had no idea what she was talking about.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Lucy _saw_ you talking to that _woman_ at the bar. And she told Janet Samuels. Janet told Sharon Knight who told Lisa Page. And Lisa told me. And they've all told pretty much everyone they know! So now it's all over school that you made a fool out of me! How dare you humiliate me like this?"

Daniel was still trying to figure out what woman he'd talked to. Saturday, the band had played a place on Route Four called The Chuck Wagon. What woman…? "Wait, you mean at the bar?"

Jenn's smile could only be called a smile in the most generous definition. "Yes. _At the bar_."

"No, see, she was just complimenting the band."

"Of course, she was. How _stupid_ do you think I am?"

Daniel sputtered, "I don't think your stu—"

"I don't need this, Daniel! Why don't you just forget it? And forget my phone number while you're at it! We're done!" She tossed her head as she stalked off to join her friends.

"But, Jenn—" The lady really had been telling Daniel that she liked the band. He hadn't done anything wrong!

"You handled that like a real pro." Evan leaned in to offer his two bits.

Daniel was in no mood for his brother's mouth. Idiot just wanted to say 'I told you so.' Daniel flashed a murderous look. "Do ya see my face?"

Evan was fighting a grin as he nodded.

"This is the look that means, _'Shut up already!'_ "

Evan stared at the floor and clamped his lips tight. Geez, Daniel had to get dumped in front of his little brother?! He shoved Evan into the lockers and stormed off. Behind him, he heard Evan laughing. "Ah, c'mon, Daniel! C'mon! I didn't mean it!" Yeah, he didn't mean it even as he couldn't stop giggling.

Rotten day.

Since Daniel never actually stopped at their locker, he was still carrying all his homework and wearing his slicker as he stormed into first period. Ronnie grabbed his sleeve as he passed. "Hey, Jeff called last night. Gig's off this weekend."

"What? Why?"

"Morris called and said he had a chance to book the Red Bigelow Band, so he's gonna go with them."

"But we had a deal!"

Ronnie shrugged, "If you had a chance to get Red Bigelow or us, who would you go with?"

Daniel forced out a frustrated breath. "That's not even funny, Ronnie."

"But true."

Daniel glanced around and realized that several classmates were looking at him…but trying to act like they weren't. Jenn dumping him must be making the rounds already. And now this. "But we had a deal for this weekend!" Daniel felt the need to insist.

Ronnie shrugged again, "We had an agreement. That can be broken by him or us. And he did."

Daniel grimaced in frustration. Just great. He threw himself into his seat and tried to get his temper under control. They overslept, he was wearing wet clothes, and his girlfriend dumped him. Now, this weekend's gig was off. And Evan. Getting humiliated was bad enough but for his brother to laugh about it felt like betrayal. Rat!

**SB4SB**

Adam stopped the truck in front of the elementary school. Guthrie just sat there. Adam looked at him expectantly, "Well?"

Guthrie didn't move. "Aren't you coming with me?" He sounded terrified.

Adam knew he wasn't perfect. And he knew his brothers realized that. But he still didn't go out of his way to make himself look like a complete idiot in front of them. And if he went in with Guthrie, that was likely to happen. "Aren't you big enough to explain this yourself?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, what're you waiting on?"

"You."

Adam slowly blew out a deep breath. The problem was that Guthrie's principal was Inez F. Potterfeld. She was Adam's fourth grade teacher and then taught Brian for sixth. The woman had to be a hundred years old 'cause she'd also been their father's teacher at some point. To Adam's knowledge, the only McFadden she thought had any value as a student was Crane. Of course, she was principal by then, and he hadn't gone to her office for discipline. Daniel and Evan had both been sent on occasion—frequently together—and that just reinforced her low opinion of the whole family. Ford also escaped her wrath, but that may have been because she seemed to think he was backward. And while Guthrie was a good kid who did well in class, he'd been called on the carpet once for cutting school. And now he was tardy. And instead of having the good brother, Crane, to make his excuses, he was stuck with Adam which could only make things worse. Not that Guthrie needed to know that. Maybe Mrs. Potterfeld would be out on rounds or something, and they'd get this done with just the school secretary.

One last try. "C'mon, Guth, it won't be that bad…" Which was one of the biggest, fattest lies Adam had ever told.

And his kid brother wasn't buying it in the slightest. He just looked at Adam with eyes full of dread.

Adam squeezed his own shut as his shoulders dropped in defeat. Not only was Hannah blaming him for the alarm clock, but now he had to go to the principal's office. "Let's go." Even to his own ears, he sounded like he was heading to the guillotine.

They ran through the rain to the school. When they got to the office, they both just stood there staring through the glass at the secretary. Finally, with a glance at Guthrie, Adam opened the door.

Miss Rumstedt looked up. "Guthrie! You're late, young man."

"Yes, ma'am."

She eyed them both and looked a question at Adam who quickly yanked off his hat. Her being a lady and all.

"Uh, see, we had—"

"Miss Rumstedt, have the class re— What _have_ we here?" Mrs. Potterfeld came out of her office and stopped at the sight of Adam and Guthrie.

"Mrs. Potterfeld." Adam felt like he'd gone back in time about twenty years.

Her mouth twisted into what might pass for a smile on her planet. "Why don't you step into my office." It was worded like a question but most definitely wasn't.

Adam threw a silent plea toward Miss Rumstedt, but she was concentrating _real hard_ on whatever paper happened to be in front of her. Clearly, they were on their own. He glanced down at Guthrie who looked like he'd just taken some bad tasting medicine. Adam swallowed hard and tried not to look nervous as he headed into the lion's den.

"Have a seat. _Gentlemen_." Mrs. Potterfeld sat behind her desk and clasped her hands in front of her. Her reading glasses sat primly on the tip of her nose and one eyebrow rose in question.

Adam tried to remember he was a grown man who'd accomplished more than most guys his age. But under her unblinking gaze, he couldn't actually come up with anything specific. Not that he needed to. No, he didn't, but… She had the undeniable ability to make him think he should.

Guthrie couldn't take it. "Ms. Potterfeld, see—"

"Mrs." Hissed like a snake.

"Right, sorry. Mrs. Potterfeld, see—"

Her eyes had been on both of them, but they zeroed on Guthrie. "Yes?"

An audible swallow from Adam's younger brother. "See, uh, we…um…"

She sat perfectly still as Guthrie's voice died away.

Adam realized he was letting his childhood fear of the woman get the best of him. Again. It happened every time he'd come in for Daniel and Evan, and now he was failing Guthrie as well. He took a deep breath of resolve; he just needed to state the facts, say he was sorry, and promise it wouldn't happen again. "Mrs. Potterfeld, Guthrie's tardy today—"

"I had noticed, yes."

"Yeah. The whole house overslept this morning. We did our best, but after getting Ford on the bus, there wasn't any way to get Guthrie here on time. It won't happen again." There.

Her eyes fixed on Adam. And they stared at each other. Adam was determined not to look away or blink first. He could do this. He knew he could. Never surrender.

Finally, she answered. "So do I understand you to say that you managed to get Ford to school on time?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Following the logical sequelae from that statement, I deduce that Guthrie's education is less important than Ford's?"

Huh? Adam was astonished. "No, ma'am."

"Let me reconstruct. You said the entire household overslept. That's seven young men. And I seem to recall hearing that you secured a spouse?"

She seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Adam nodded dumbly.

She gave a slight shake of her head at the apparent absurdity. "So there are now eight people in your household, and all of you managed to oversleep which I find difficult to believe. However, according to your statement, you managed to get Ford on his bus. And unless it broke down en route, it would follow that he got to class at the appropriate time."

She paused. Evidently waiting for answer again. Adam nodded.

"Therefore, since he got to school on time and Guthrie did not, the logical conclusion is that Ford's education is a higher priority than Guthrie's."

Adam's eyes popped in utter bewilderment. "No, ma'am."

"How else should I interpret it, Mr. McFadden?"

She had never called him Mr. McFadden. Before today, he'd always been, 'Adam' or 'Young Man.' He flashed back to a parent-teacher conference with his father for…something. Mostly, his mother had come. No telling what Adam was in trouble for that day, but he remembered Mrs. Potterfeld calling his father, 'Mr. McFadden.' Adam wondered if his dad was scared of her, too. He shook his head slightly to get rid of the memory.

She was trying to twist the morning's events to make it seem like Guthrie wasn't as important as Ford. Adam took a deep breath, "Mrs. Potterfeld, it wasn't a question of whose education is more important; it was time management and transportation, plain and simple. Better one late than both. I'm sorry, but it was just one of those mornings. It won't happen again." He waited on her next move.

The brow lifted again, and he worked to maintain his stance. No weakness. She breathed a skeptical sigh. "All right…if you _insist_. Just do see that it doesn't happen again." She picked up a piece of paper and began writing.

Adam nodded slightly. "Yes, ma'am." Guthrie's eyes were wide.

"Here's your excuse for Ms. Dudley. You may go."

Guthrie fled. Adam stood to go, the sooner the better. Then Guthrie came running back and scooped up his books. He tripped, turning over the chair and generally making a spectacle of himself. Adam finally managed to grab the back of his slicker, and Guthrie was able to get his balance. His face was embarrassed but grateful, and he skedaddled back through the outer office as Miss Rumstedt called after him to slow down.

When Adam turned back to Mrs. Potterfeld, she was eyeing him with disapproval over the top of her reading glasses.

Adam tried to think of something to say, but, as always when he was in front of this woman, nothing seemed appropriate. He managed to clear his throat and nodded briefly. "Mrs. Potterfeld." He backed into the door frame on his way out and turned to see Miss Rumstedt watching cautiously. Glad to have broken the staring contest with the principal, he managed a cracked smile at the secretary. "Thanks. 'Bye." And with that, he was out the door and back into the downpour. As bad as the day had been so far, after that confrontation, it had to get better.


	3. Chapter 3

Evan slid into his desk for second period. He still couldn't get the scene with Daniel and Jenn Clapp out of his head. She had him twisting, and Daniel clearly didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Girls. Evan didn't want to try living without them—they made the world an infinitely better place—but he'd never understand 'em either.

Evan felt bad for his brother. Evan had heard around school that Jenn was only dating Daniel 'cause he was in the band. She liked the attention she got at dances and clubs as the lead singer's girl. Evan tried to tell Daniel a couple of times but was told to butt out. At that point, Evan gave up. Couldn't help somebody who didn't want it.

Course, that didn't mean Daniel deserved the hiding. Jenn tore a strip off of him that had to smart like fire. And in front of everybody which made it worse. The whole school would be talking about it before lunch. Which was probably Jenn's whole point.

Daniel should've been able to defend himself a little better. They got plenty of chances to see Adam and Hannah go at it. Adam was real good at arguing. Seems like Daniel would've been able to respond with a little more gumption. Evan knew he shouldn't have laughed, but that never stopped any of them—Daniel included—when they watched Adam and Hannah. They were better than anything on TV. Still, Evan knew Daniel was hurt and embarrassed, and Evan should've been supportive. He decided to apologize when he saw Daniel at lunch.

A whisper across the aisle, "Evan."

He glanced over at Beth Parsons after making sure Miss Klein wasn't paying attention.

"Did I hear that Jennifer Clapp…broke up with Daniel?"

The news was getting around all right. Evan winced in sympathy. "Yeah. It was pretty brutal."

Beth glanced up to check their teacher. "Jenn's cold blooded."

"Yeah."

She bit her lip and looked uncertain. Evan glanced around, wondering at her hesitation. Beth took a deep breath, "Listen, I know Daniel's probably pretty cut up right now, but…you know, not all girls are like that."

Evan couldn't help the small grin. "You want me to tell him he doesn't have to be…lonely?"

She glanced away, looking embarrassed, but smiled when she looked back. A little shrug, "Yeah. If you wouldn't mind."

Evan smiled, "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear it."

"Just be, you know…subtle…about it."

Evan pretended ignorance, "What's 'subtle?'"

She looked a little panicked. "You know…don't just—"

Evan couldn't keep from laughing. "I got it. Just joshing ya."

She tried to act mad. "You're awful!"

Evan bit his lips together as he nodded in complete agreement. Came from having six brothers.

They turned to face the board as Miss Klein got started. Evan couldn't help but think of Daniel's luck. Beth was a nice girl. Sweet and cute and not snotty like Jenn Clapp. Beth would be good for his brother.

Then Miss Klein reminded them that their term papers were due at the end of class. Evan opened his English book to the right page and then realized he didn't have the folder he kept his homework in. He'd finished the paper the night before and remembered putting it in the right hand pocket, ready to turn in. He started to feel a little uneasy. With half his mind on Miss Klein at the blackboard, the other part of his brain filed through the morning, trying to remember when he'd last seen the homework folder. Try as he might, he couldn't remember seeing it this morning. The longer the class went, the more unsettled he felt. In the panicked rush, he hadn't checked to make sure he had it when he left the house. He'd grabbed his books and ran to catch their ride. And then at the locker, he'd thrown everything in before first period, but he didn't remember seeing the distinctive orange folder. Still, he'd been distracted by Daniel and Jenn; it could be there. It better be there.

When class ended, he was no closer to an answer. As the kids dropped their papers into the basket on Miss Klein's desk, Evan hung back. Finally, he was the last person there.  
"Miss Klein?"

"Yes, Evan."

"Um, I left my homework folder in my locker. Can I bring my paper in later?"

She eyed him with a smile. "Sure. As long as I have it by the end of the day."

Evan grinned with relief. "Thanks. I appreciate it." He nodded farewell as he left the room, and his smile disappeared. Please let that stupid folder be in the locker.

Fortunately, third period was study hall, so he wouldn't miss anything if he was a little late. Mr. Shannon would give him grief for tardiness, but it would be worth it. That paper was a fourth of his English grade; he had to find it.

The hallways were emptying as he got the locker open and started shuffling through his shelf. Should be… nope. Okay, maybe he'd put it… not there either. All right, McFadden, think. Maybe Daniel had it mixed in with his books, so Evan flipped through his brother's shelf. Not there. His stomach rolled. The only thing he could think was that he'd left it at home in the rush to get out the door.

Trying to decide what to do, he realized he was alone. Everybody had gone in their classrooms. Evan's mind roamed over the possibilities. He could call home from the school payphone and ask whoever answered to bring it in. But then he'd get yelled at for interrupting the morning and why didn't he get organized last night? Plus, he figured one or more of his brothers had to take Ford and Guthrie to school. They'd have been driving all over the county and would be pretty ticked off about having to go back out in the rain. More grief. And Evan already got more than his share of lectures about school. Since threatening to drop out earlier in the year, the family had been all over his case about grades.

Evan's other idea was to pick it up himself and then come back to school. It was…doable. It would take a while, but at least he'd be the only one who knew about the screw up. Maybe an hour to get home; that would use up study hall. Next period was gym followed by lunch. He could ditch gym—Coach wouldn't get too mad. Evan could use that hour and lunch to get back to school. Getting his paper without anybody realizing he was home… well, he'd figure that out when he got there. But weighing his brothers' uptight overreactions against the calm discipline of his teachers if he got caught, Evan decided he'd much prefer the strict school guidelines. Teachers wouldn't go ballistic while his brothers would hit the roof.

Decision made, he dashed off a note and dropped it on Daniel's shelf. His brother would find it sometime during the day. Might improve his mood and be a small apology for this morning. Evan grabbed his jacket and slicker. It was a long way to the house.

**SB4SB**

Crane clasped his hands and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair in Doctor Meade's waiting room. Brian was such a— Crane bit down on that thought. Wouldn't help anything to point out that Brian was being a big crybaby. Couldn't just let Crane take care of the problem at home. Oh, no. The idiot insisted on coming all the way to Murphys— _in the rain_ —so Meade could reset his thumb. When the seats in the Jeep were _soaking_ wet. And of course, Crane was the one who had to go out in the pouring rain to put the top on and dry the seats as best he could. _And_ drive Brian into town. So here Crane sat in clothes that were still wet despite the slicker, waiting on his _prima donna brother_ to get his _stupid_ thumb popped back in place.

Okay. That wasn't really fair. Brian was anything but a prima donna crybaby. Crane couldn't actually remember Brian ever crying as a result of injury or pain. And putting a label like prima donna on him was laughable. Brian couldn't care less about his appearance or circumstances. What mattered were the family and the ranch. The man himself came in a distant third after that.

Still…Crane could've fixed the thumb. He knew how. And he was pretty sure Brian knew how, too. Crane would have trusted Brian if his own thumb was out of joint. Probably. Especially in the pouring rain. With the only transportation available a soaking wet Jeep. Brian should've at least let Crane try. But no, of course not.

Half the time, Crane would swear Brian did stuff like this just to make him mad. Brian almost never pulled this crap with Adam. But then, Adam was the only one who exerted any real control over Brian. Most of the time, he was like a half wild bull. He'd let someone ride herd on him every now and then, but for the most part, it was smarter to just stay out of his way.

From behind the door to the treatment area, "All right, Brian, we'll see you back in three weeks. Remember to keep your thumb immobilized as much as possible. It could pop back out real easy until those tendons heal up."

"I will. Thanks, Judy. I appreciate you seeing me so quick."

"Better us than the ER. You'd destroy that place inside of ten minutes."

"Ah, c'mon...it'd take at least fifteen."

Crane rolled his eyes at the flirty tone. Judy Jefferson was at least fifty. And married. With grown kids. He stood as the door opened. Brian stepped into the waiting room, and the easy smile dissolved as he eyed Crane sourly. Great.

Crane stepped up to the window where they'd signed in. "Ms. Blair? Can I use your phone?"

She pushed the phone closer with a smile, and Crane dialed the ranch. It rang a couple of times, and then Hannah picked up, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. We're done."

"How's Brian?"

Crane eyed his brother who waited with his right arm in a sling. "He's fine. All fixed up."

"That's good." Crane could hear the relief in her voice. Then, "Uh…could you guys do me a favor?"

He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. But, "What do ya need?"

She was quiet a second. "Can you go to the market?"

Crane closed his eyes in dread. "A full run?"

Another second of hesitation. "Yes?" Hopeful sounding but not actually expecting it.

Crane's head dropped in defeat. "Sure. Let me a get a piece of paper." He looked hopefully at Ms. Blair and mimed writing. She provided him paper and pen. "Okay, go ahead." He knew he sounded less than enthusiastic, but none of them liked grocery shopping. It took forever.

Hannah read off the list, and it was several minutes till Crane finished.

Brian was staring at him impatiently. "What was that?"

"That was Hannah giving me the list for the store."

"No way!"

Crane didn't answer as he pulled his slicker back on.

"We are not grocery shopping."

"Yes, we are."

"No. We're not."

Crane bit his lip. "Well, then I guess you'll sit in the Jeep while I go."

"Crane!"

"Brian, we're already in town; we're already wet."

"And I've got a dislocated thumb!"

"No, you've got a reset thumb that's immobilized. And I just want to remind you that we didn't have to come to town for that."

Brian shook his head, "There was _no_ way I was gonna let you—"

"So you can either sit in the Jeep while I do the shopping, or you can walk along the aisles with me, or you can help. Entirely up to you."

Brian smirked, "I could go somewhere else while you're in the store."

"I've got the keys. And as soon as I'm done, I'm heading to the house—with or without you."

Brian tried for menacing, but Crane had developed immunity long ago. He didn't weigh as much as Brian, but they'd gone a round or two. And since Brian was injured, Crane would probably win if Brian decided to try it on today.

"Fine." Brian's voice was gravelly as he barely managed to stay civil.

Crane flashed a fake smile and turned for the door.

**SB4SB**

Hannah stood at the kitchen window and folded her arms. Adam was home but hadn't come in the house. He was avoiding her.

She glanced at the table. His breakfast was waiting—cold now since he didn't come in to have the…discussion…about the alarm clock. He hadn't even checked to see where Brian and Crane were. _Seems_ like he'd wonder why his brothers weren't out there helping him. But apparently, he'd rather do all the work himself than come in and face her. And she'd even been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

After Brian and Crane left, she trailed through the house noting the results of the chaotic morning. The bathroom was a disaster, and she did a thorough cleaning in there. No wonder Brian fell. The towels were washed and in the dryer.

Then she started working up the grocery list. Producing that list was an ongoing process. When somebody finished the last of something, he had to put it on the list. If it wasn't on the list, then no complaints about running out. When it was time for the grocery run, she just had to decipher the different handwritings and make sure the item wasn't in the pantry. The running tally was checked against the sale papers and menu, and a final list was assembled. She'd planned to go to the store today, but after Adam took the truck and then Brian and Crane left in the Jeep, she'd been without transportation. When Crane called, she tentatively asked if he and Brian could do it…which made sense as they were already in town. Thankfully, he agreed although she knew he'd done so reluctantly. Couldn't blame him.

She picked up the clothes in the bedrooms and made the beds. Crane and Daniel's room was in slightly better shape than Evan and Ford's, but that was probably only because Crane hadn't been involved in the savage race for school. She straightened the living room, and the house didn't look like a warzone anymore.

And the whole time she'd been bringing order to the disorder, she'd been thinking about the alarm clock. Maybe she hadn't set it. It was routine now; something she did every night. But it was so habitual at this point that one night ran into the next. Maybe last night she'd only looked at the clock…not actually pulled the pin. Maybe she'd checked the time but not set the alarm. Or maybe she had. She just couldn't differentiate one night from the next. At any rate, she was willing to concede she might be wrong. So she made Adam breakfast to apologize for the accusation.

But then he came home and went right to the barn. Didn't even come in to dry off or get something to eat. And standing at the kitchen window, she knew he was still down there just so he wouldn't have to face her. The longer she thought about it, the angrier she got. Well, fine. If that's how he wanted to play, she knew that game, too.

**SB4SB**

Sitting in economics, Daniel fingered the bright orange folder containing Evan's term paper on The Great Gatsby. Right now, his brother was probably wondering where the folder was. Daniel knew the panic he'd feel in Evan's boots. Served him right after this morning. But, while Evan deserved a little payback, Daniel didn't want him to fail English. So he decided to let Evan squirm a while and then give the folder back at lunch. A couple hours of floundering around never hurt anybody.

After class, Daniel headed to their locker. He was getting tired of the whispers and laughs. This had already been a very long day; it couldn't be over soon enough. When he got the locker open, he found a note on top of his books.

 _**4—** _  
_**Keep your head up. You can do way better. Like Beth Parsons.**_  
_**5**_

Daniel couldn't help the small grin. His little brother could be a jerk, but he also had a knack for reminding a guy that having brothers meant Daniel would always have somebody on his side. Even if that somebody was an idiot who laughed at the wrong time. Twerp.

Daniel grabbed his book for fourth period and slammed the locker. He couldn't wait to see Evan's face when he gave him back the folder. Daniel grinned, just thinking about Little Brother's relief.

Hmm. Beth Parsons…

**SB4SB**

Ford was in English wishing his clothes would dry a little quicker. They weren't sticking to him anymore, but they were still damp. Made him chilly. And when they finally dried, they'd probably be scratchy.

Up front, his teacher was talking about their class reports. They were supposed to pick a book of 'classic' literature and give a report about why it was considered a 'classic.' He'd initially chosen Ivanhoe, thinking it would be about knights and stuff. And it was. But Ford couldn't get into it. He'd only managed five or six chapters before giving up. He'd explained the problem to Mrs. Carter. Her question: what did he plan to read instead? Not really expecting her to let him out of his first choice, he didn't have a replacement in mind. At which point, she'd handed him, Bob, Son of Battle. Which he'd never heard of. Didn't a 'classic' have to be kinda famous? No one Ford talked to had ever heard of Bob, but it was way shorter than Ivanhoe, so he'd just resolved to get it done.

It was about a dog. And sheep. Which didn't sound all that great. Definitely not as thrilling as knights. It was also written in a weird dialect with words that made no sense. The first few chapters, Ford had no idea what he was reading. But eventually, with 'dogged' determination—Guthrie would love that joke—Ford had begun to figure out what the new words meant. And the book started to get pretty good. He got caught up in the story and didn't want to stop reading. He couldn't wait to tell the classmates who'd laughed how great the dog book really was.

So given all that, Ford should've been happy when Mrs. Carter called on him to give his report. And he was…till he realized his note cards were a soggy mess. And the ink had run making his small, cramped handwriting practically illegible even for him. He had faint hopes that maybe only the top ones were ruined, and he tried to flip through the rest of the stack. But they were stuck together and in his haste to pull them apart, a few ripped.

His face got hot in panic. He didn't want to wing it. He'd worked hard to make Mrs. Carter proud. He wanted her to know he enjoyed the book by doing a really good job. If he could put off the report till tomorrow, carefully separate the cards and let them dry (or redo the ones that couldn't be saved), she'd know that her instincts and faith in him were correct.

So he took a deep breath, grabbed his soggy note cards as proof, and started up to her desk. He was about halfway there, mentally preparing his arguments, when he tripped over…something. Afterward, he couldn't say if it was somebody's foot or a back pack or what. His arms wind-milled, but he was already off balance, squeezing through the narrow aisle. The next thing he knew, he jerked a couple of desks out of line and pulled Ted Peterson completely out of his seat to land on top of Ford. Flat on his back.

Mrs. Carter was out from behind her desk, "Oh, my! Ford! Ted! Oh, goodness! Are you all right?"

Ted got up, mainly by mashing down on Ford. "I'm fine. Okay, Ford?" He reached out a hand which Ford grabbed.

"I'm okay. Sorry, Ted."

"Man, you were flying. That's one of the coolest dance steps I ever did see." Smiles and grins all around.

Ford felt himself coloring up again.

"Ford, are you sure you're not hurt?"

"No, ma'am, I'm fine. Don't know what I tripped over."

Laughs and giggles as Ford glanced around self-consciously.

"Well, if you're sure… Listen, why don't you wait and give your report tomorrow? After that…incident, it might be hard to focus."

Ford started to protest—because McFaddens didn't like even a suggestion of failure—but then he remembered the delay was exactly what he'd hoped for anyway. "Yes, ma'am."

As he started back to his seat, Stu snickered, "You might be light on your feet, McFadden, but you come down pretty hard on your butt." Which should've been funny. And might've been if the whole class hadn't roared—even Cleo. Her shoulders were shaking with laughter.

Ford twisted out a grin to play it off. Like it didn't bother him. "Landings have never been one of my strengths, but I could medal in take-offs. Perfect ten every time."

The class thought that was funny, too. Should've made him feel better, but it didn't. Cleo shot him a look…affectionate, but still amused. That improved his mood slightly, but still…she'd laughed. At him. Or maybe she'd just laughed at the joke Stu made at his expense. Either way, it hurt.

He sat down and unwrapped his hand from the soggy note cards. Through the whole event, he'd held on to them which was something, he guessed. He glanced up as Mrs. Carter called somebody else. When Marcy Rogers began talking about Of Mice and Men, Ford started separating his cards. It was gonna take forever.

So he sat barely listening, uncomfortably chilly in damp clothes, pulling apart soggy note cards, thinking about his girl laughing at him. His backside hurt where he'd landed which would make riding a lot of fun. At least his older brothers wouldn't insist on many jobs requiring a horse in this weather. This whole stupid day, that's the only good thing Ford could think of…he probably wouldn't have to ride a horse with a sore butt.


	4. Chapter 4

Adam eyed the screen door before reluctantly pulling it open. He glanced at his watch…just gone eleven. When he got back from dropping Guthrie at school, there was work to do. He'd vaguely wondered why Brian and Crane hadn't taken care of the chores—and why the Jeep was gone—but the work still needed doing, no matter what. And if it kept Adam busy, well…then, he was busy.

Not that he was _avoiding_ Hannah. He wasn't, but he wasn't really looking forward to another showdown either. They'd already been into it once today, and then he'd had to face Mrs. Potterfeld. Now it was down to brass tacks with his wife again. There was only so much conflict a man could deal with in one day. And none of it had involved his brothers.

Yet.

He quietly pushed open the kitchen door and found the coast was clear. Then he spied the plate on the table. Glancing around, he sidled up to have a look. He wrinkled his nose at the long cold breakfast that had apparently been sitting for a while now. His appetite disappeared, and he regretted the long morning in the barn.

Well, nothing for it. If he didn't eat the food, he'd never hear the end of it, so he might as well get on with the job. He took a bite of the bacon. It was good—after all, it was pretty impossible for bacon to taste bad—but it was a little chewy at this point. Still, not such a big problem. He eyed the toast. Cold and stale, no doubt. Which turned out to be the case, but he got both slices down. That left the scrambled eggs. Cold and dry looking. He tapped them, and his fork bounced. He eyed the laundry room and then the living room. Not seeing or hearing any sign of Hannah, he grabbed the ketchup from the refrigerator. He drowned the eggs, slid the bottle back in the door, and sat down, ready to shovel 'em in. And that's pretty much what he did. The ketchup helped ease the rubbery eggs down his gullet, and in record time, they were gone. He looked at his plate, proud of himself. Not as bad as he expected. Kinda reminded him of when he and Brian first started cooking after their mom died. Not very appetizing, but it would keep a guy from starving.

He rinsed off his plate and heard Hannah come in the laundry room. He turned as she walked in the kitchen and folded her arms, staring at him.

He waited, hoping she'd notice the plate was gone.

She glanced at her watch and then back at him. He scratched a brow, not saying anything. Then she went back to the laundry room without a word.

"Ah, Hannah! Would ya just—" He'd never been able to stand the silent treatment. P. J. had done that, and it drove him crazy. Not that he liked arguing with Hannah, but at least she'd talk to him. Or she always had before.

When he got in the laundry room, she was throwing undershirts and briefs in the washing machine. With force.

"Don't walk away from me!"

She turned to face him, "You're the one who's been hiding in the barn! Don't talk to me about walking away!"

"I _didn’t_ walk away!"

"No, you just never came in!"

"There was work needed to be done. Where're Brian and Crane?"

She faked surprise. "I'm _sorry_! Over an _hour_ after you get home, you finally ask about your brothers?!"

Adam tried to rein in his temper. Okay, he probably deserved that. "I figured if it was something big, you'd have come told me."

"What if _I_ wasn't here? What if I was with them?"

She had a point. "Okay, you're right. I should've checked before."

"Well, let me call Guinness. Adam McFadden just admitted he was wrong."

Couldn't she just accept it without the sarcasm? "Doggone it, Hannah! Just tell me!"

She folded her arms again. "They went to see Doctor Meade."

Adam blinked in surprise. Brian or Crane needed the doc? That almost never happened. But Hannah wasn't overly concerned. And she was still at the house so it must not be real serious. Still…"Why? What happened?"

Hannah softened just a little. "Brian slipped in the bathroom and dislocated his thumb."

Adam thought for half a second. "Crane coulda fixed that."

Hannah shrugged slightly, "That's what he said. But Brian wouldn't let him touch it, so they went to the doctor's office."

"When was this?"

"Right after you left."

"That was hours ago."

"I'm aware of that, thank you." Icy.

He tried to count ten before answering. "Well, have you heard from 'em? They should be done by now."

"And they are. The thumb was reset, and they went to the store for me."

Adam bit his lip. They all hated the grocery run. It was a huge relief when Hannah took over the job. Keeping a list, looking for coupons, checking the sale papers, making a menu…managing a household the size of theirs was a monster. And knowing that Brian and Crane were stuck grocery shopping tickled Adam's funny bone. Then he caught sight of Hannah's face.

"Pretty funny, isn't it?"

"No, course not."

"Uh-huh. That's why you're biting your tongue to keep from laughing. It's a real giggle when I have to do it a couple times a week, too!"

"Aw, c'mon, Hannah! That's not what I meant!"

"Ya know, these two and three hour grocery runs aren't the highlight of my day either!" She stormed past him with a basket of clean clothes.

"Hannah!"

"I _didn't_ have the truck or Jeep, Adam McFadden! What was I supposed to do about making sure we have milk tomorrow?" She stomped up the stairs.

He followed her, "That's _not_ what I meant! Can we just start over?"

She went in their bedroom and placed the basket on the bed. " _Sure_. How was your breakfast?"

**SB4SB**

Evan stared at the house. He'd made it home by hitching a ride from guy taking his horse up to Bear Valley where Molly used to work. That got him to Murphys, and then he got a lift from old Mister Doyle who lived about twenty miles beyond the Circle Bar Seven. The last step was to get in the house and find his paper.

He shook the water out of his eyes. He'd ditched his slicker in the barn 'cause the bright color would draw attention. He was already wet anyway.

The truck was out front, but the Jeep was gone. Which meant at least one less person in the house. Better odds. Evan felt kinda like a super spy. Okay, a drowned super spy. On _The Wild West_ Jim West never got caught like this. Artemus Gordon was always the one stuck in the rain; West got the hot girls.

Evan slipped through the yard to the kitchen side of the house. Crouching at the bottom of the porch, he risked a glance at the window. Coming on lunch, there was a good chance someone might be in the kitchen, but it looked clear. He boosted himself up from the ground. Again, less likely to be seen. He crept under the window and kept an ear out. Biting his lip, hope fighting dread, he rose till he was right under the glass and did a fast up and down. He saw nothing, so he chanced a longer look. The kitchen appeared empty. He slowly opened the door, expecting to be caught any second. But no one hollered, and he eye-balled that side of the house. Looked clear, but he needed to hurry.

Now, to find the report. Evan distinctly remembered sticking the paper in the folder last night. Then… his mind went blank. A fast glance under the table revealed a big nothing. He checked around the kitchen, hoping Hannah might have found it and put it aside for him to find later. No dice. That meant he had to check the living room.

He sidled to the corner and listened hard. From upstairs he heard faint voices. Voices arguing. Hannah, for sure, and the way they were going at it, the other had to be Adam. None of the rest of them really fought with Hannah. Kinda like they considered her off limits when it came to arguments. He wondered about it briefly, but for himself, he just knew he usually gave in to whatever she wanted. Mostly. If she was really serious. Maybe she was just good at asking.

He didn't hear Brian or Crane, so maybe they were both out of the house. If Adam and Hannah were involved in an argument upstairs, Evan had a halfway decent chance of getting a look around the living room. Keeping in mind a quote he once heard, _'Fortune favors the bold_ ,' he prayed that whoever said it knew what he was talking about. He'd also heard, _'Fortune favors the fool'_. Didn't really want to know which category he fit.

In the living room, he could hear the argument better. They were in their bedroom, and the door was wide open. Evan was missing a great chance to hear them go at it. Instead, he quietly hurried around the room, looking for the folder. It _had_ to be here. He done all his homework downstairs last night and put the paper _in the folder_. So where could it have gotten to? It wasn't on or under the coffee table or the sofa and chairs. Not anywhere around the sofa by the kitchen door. Not on the desk by the window. Where?

Nowhere. The folder wasn't in the living room. And it wasn't in the kitchen. And that was his last, best hope for finding it. _Dang it!_ If it wasn't here and it wasn't at school, then he'd lost it somewhere in between. He must've dropped it after running out the front door or somewhere in the parking lot at school. And with all the rain, the paper would be ruined even if he did find it. Which would take a miracle at this point.

Well, that was it then. He was gonna fail English. He felt like kicking himself. Of course, he still had his notes. He could probably cobble something together tonight and turn it in tomorrow. Miss Klein would take off points for lateness, but maybe he'd get _some_ credit. Anything was better than nothing. But he'd been kind of proud of this paper. He'd really enjoyed the book and worked hard on it. A quick re-write wouldn't have… Well, it would be rushed and haphazard and might not make a lot of sense. Still, again, anything was better than a zero. _Dang it all!_

He headed back to the kitchen and made sure the Jeep wasn't pulling up. No sign of Brian or Crane, so he sprinted to the barn. Once inside, he pulled his jacket and slicker back on, shivering in the cool January air.

Now what? He could go back to school or ditch the rest of the day. His last two teachers would definitely turn him in for cutting class, and that would make an already bad day even worse. Plus, it was raining, and he didn't have anyone to run around with.

Getting back to school was gonna be a little more work. It was lunch time, and the number of people heading into town would be fewer. This far out, most folks went in the morning. So rather than waiting for an iffy ride, he decided to saddle Diablo. He'd stable him at Scott Stevens' place in Murphys and then hitch a ride back to Angel's Camp, a much surer bet. The only problem was that one of his brothers might notice Diablo was missing. But he decided to just hope for the best and try to get home before anyone caught on. He didn't have many choices left at this point.

**SB4SB**

Brian shook his head. "You're not getting that."

Crane barely spared him a glance. "Watch me."

Brian reached in the buggy and retrieved the recently deposited items. "You're not."

Crane huffed, a sure sign he was working to keep his temper. "Yes, I am."

"That stuff tastes like horse manure. You're not."

Crane bit his lip briefly. "It's peanut butter; one's as good as the next."

Brian hated to point out the obvious, but, "You don't eat it much, or you'd know. It's not, 'One's as good as the next.' We don't touch this one with a ten foot pole. _This_ is the kind we eat." Brian held up his choice.

" _This_ one is thirty cents cheaper. We can adjust." He put two jars of the nasty stuff back in the buggy.

Brian attempted to smile. He was trying to hold his temper, too. They were in public, after all. " _We_ aren't gonna adjust to peanut butter that has the consistency of dry Play Doh. _We_ are getting _this_ kind instead."

Crane's eyes narrowed, and he cleared his throat. His teeth clenched, "Brian—"

Then a flash of brilliance. Brian's winning edge was coming down the aisle. "Mrs. Vandergriff! How ya doing?"

"Why, Brian, what a lovely surprise. I'm well. And Crane, how nice to see you both."

Brian kept control of their half of the conversation. "How's Mr. Vandergriff?"

"Oh, he had an accident with the hatchet last week. Near about planted it in his leg."

Brian nodded, "We heard about that in church. Gonna be okay, isn't he?"

"The doctor said he would, but he just doesn't heal as fast as he used to. He's got the sugar, you know."

"One of us'll be over to work on your wood pile next week."

She smiled, "Oh, don't you bother. We'll manage."

Brian smiled winningly, knowing that with his bum thumb, he wouldn't be going. A lot easier to volunteer one of his brothers. "It's no bother at all. Just being neighborly."

"Well, that would be a help."

"Maybe you can help us in return."

She looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, I'd be happy to do anything I can."

"How about settling a disagreement between me and Crane?"

"I suppose that would depend on the disagreement, boys."

"Oh, nothing big. Just tell us: what brand of peanut butter do you buy?"

"Well, it depends on the purpose."

Brian was a little surprised, but not so much it caused him to back off. "How?"

"Well, if I'm eating it on crackers or bread, I get this one." She pointed to Brian's choice. "But if I'm baking or making candy with it, then I get the cheaper one." She indicated Crane's bargain off brand.

Brian was curious. "Why is that one for candy and baking?"

She shrugged a little. "Well, I'll be adding butter and sugar to it. That's about the only way it's edible."

Knowing he'd won the argument, he smiled at her. "That's good to know. Well, we'll let you get on with your shopping. And one of us'll be over next week."

"I hope I was able to help."

"More than you know."

She went on down the aisle, and Brian turned back to Crane who didn't seem to be taking the loss very graciously. Brian really shouldn't rub it in. He wanted to say, 'I told you so,' but that would be kind of childish. So he opted for a triumphant smile as he put _his_ peanut butter in the buggy.

**SB4SB**

Guthrie carried his tray over to the table. He glanced out the windows and, sure enough, it was still raining. Like Noah. Except the ark was coated with pitch or something to make it waterproof, and God told Noah to close it up before it ever started raining. So they didn't have to worry about wet clothes. Until they washed 'em. Did the Bible mention anything about water on the ark for washing people and clothes? They must've had it, or they'd have been _rank_ after all that time. Especially with the animals inside. All by themselves, animals have their own smell, and when there's manure to deal with, too… Well, as bad as today had been, it was still probably better than the inside of the ark after a couple months.

And it had been one doozy of a day. First, they all overslept. First time that happened since Hannah came to live with 'em. Guthrie figured it had to be Adam's fault 'cause Hannah didn't make that kinda mistake. Of course, there was a first time for everything. Still, odds were it was probably Adam.

Oversleeping made for a really bad start with a fight for the bathroom that Daniel and Evan won since they were bigger. And then the run to the truck, soaking them all. And then Adam took Ford to meet his bus first 'cause it was farther to his school than Guthrie's. Pretty much guaranteed Guthrie would be late.

And that led to Mrs. Potterfeld's office. That woman was just plain scary. Prompted by stories from his brothers, Guthrie had lived in mortal fear of her practically his whole life. And when Adam suggested that Guthrie come in by himself…well, that was just about the stupidest idea he'd ever heard. No way. And sure enough, barely even raising her voice, she blasted him and Adam both. Guthrie felt like he'd been chewed up and spit out when she sent him to class.

Relieved to be away from the Dragon Lady, he'd gone to Ms. Dudley's class. She was a good teacher, and Guthrie liked her. But when he walked in, she said, "You're late, Guthrie."

Despite being raised to respect his teachers, he'd wanted to answer, "No kidding." The whole class could figure out he was late. Instead, he just handed her the note from the principal and went to his seat. Later, he remembered it was the first time he'd been late for _her_ class; she was probably just surprised. But still, he didn't like being called out.

Sitting down to lunch, he opened his milk as Eddie Barton sat down. They were having spaghetti which was one of Guthrie's favorites. And not Eddie's which meant Guthrie would probably get both portions. He looked up as Neil Dary headed for the seat opposite. Neil was kind of…awkward? Uncoordinated? He was always the last kid picked at recess or gym, but he was pretty much the smartest guy in class.

"Hey, Neil. Did you—"

Just as Guthrie started to ask about their math, Neil started to slide. Maybe there was water on the floor, or it might've just been his general clumsiness. All Guthrie knew was that Neil tried to get his tray on the table and grab something solid. Which he managed. But when he slammed the tray down, the plate went flying…and landed on Guthrie's chest. Sauce and noodles went all over him. Clothes, face, everywhere. He could feel it. Smell it.

Eddie whooped. And the laughter spread around the cafeteria. Guthrie cracked one eye at Eddie who was turning red. A miracle he could even breathe.

Guthrie looked at the plate resting on his lap, noodles and sauce sliding down to land on the floor. His shirt had been blue and white; now it was orange and smelled like garlic and tomato sauce. Great. Just great.

Neil was a picture of shock. "Guthrie! I'm sorry! Really, I am!"

At his obvious regret, Guthrie relented a bit. He hadn't done it on purpose. Neil was an accident waiting to happen pretty much anytime, but today, the fallout was on Guthrie. Then he thought of a great joke. Too bad his brothers weren't around 'cause they'd love it. He'd just have to remember to tell 'em when he got home. Gonna be a long time before that happened though…a long time smelling like garlic which was gonna stink no matter how any times he washed. It was in his hair even.

Guthrie aimed a lethal look at Eddie who was still barking like a hyena and then glanced over to Neil who looked miserably sorry. He was smart enough to appreciate the joke. "It's all right. Ya know, we live in Murphys."

Neil looked confused. "Yeah…?"

"Ya ever heard of Murphy's Law?"

Neil looked intrigued; Eddie stopped chuckling.

"That's why I have spaghetti on me."

Neil shook his head, "But that was me."

Guthrie sighed. "It's just one of those days. I was late, I had to go see Mrs. Potterfeld, and my clothes aren't dry yet. You slipped and threw spaghetti on me." Guthrie shrugged, "It's never happened before, and it probably won't again. I'm just cursed with Murphy's Law today. So you're forgiven; you can't fight Murphy's Law…especially not in Murphys. It's like Murphys' Murphy's. It's Murphys squared."

Neil snickered.

Eddie looked puzzled. "I don't get it."

That made Neil laugh even harder. Which was the whole point. No reason for his day to be as bad as Guthrie's.

Guthrie looked down at his clothes in resignation. He started picking up the noodles and putting them on the tray as Ms. Dudley hurried up.

"Guthrie! What happened?"

He looked at her and shrugged, "Ms. Dudley, it was bound to happen. It's Murphys Squared."


	5. Chapter 5

Daniel set his tray on the table. He, Ronnie, and Evan usually had lunch together along with Jill Rutherford and a couple others that might or might not show up. Jenn had been joining them.

People began to trickle in, and Daniel traded howdies with Ronnie and Troy and then Jill slid into a seat. She waited for a lull in the conversation. "Where's Evan?"

Daniel looked at her blankly. "You were in gym with him; you tell me."

She and Evan were pretty good friends. They'd been in Coop Johnson's rodeo clinic together and ran around talking horses all the time. She shrugged, "He wasn't there."

"What do you mean, 'He wasn't there?'"

She gave him a look. "Am I talking Chinese? He. Wasn't. There."

Daniel started to ask, 'Why not?' but she clearly didn't know. "Well, he was here this morning."

"Well, he skipped fourth period."

Daniel absently tapped his fork, trying to figure it out. What was his idiot brother up to now? Then Daniel got it; the jerk was cutting school! Daniel was having one of the worst days of his entire senior year, and Evan ditched without telling him. Figures. _Weasel_.

And he'd planned to return Evan's English paper. The orange folder was sitting under his tray, ready to be handed over. At this point, Daniel was tempted to toss the whole thing in the garbage. The least Evan could've done was ask if Daniel wanted to go! But no, the turkey was just looking out for himself.

"Daniel?"

He snapped back to reality. "Sorry. I don't know where he is."

She looked at him shrewdly, "Really?"

"Really. He didn't tell me what he was doing. He came to school this morning; that's all I know."

She pouted a little. "I can't believe he didn't say _anything_. Especially to you."

Daniel was a little surprised himself. And ticked off. "We'll just have to take turns tearing him apart. A piece at a time. Sound all right?"

She grinned. "I like that plan. As soon as we find the jerk."

**SB4SB**

Adam wasn't sure this day would ever end. Brian and Crane had finally gotten home, the Jeep packed with about twenty soggy grocery bags. Adam wasn't sure how they'd gotten them all in the Jeep; or rather he wasn't sure how Crane had gotten them in there. Considering how Brian _supervised_ the unloading, Adam imagined Crane had done most of the work. Brian helped a little, but he kept saying, 'I only got one hand!' And the murderous looks Crane kept leveling at Brian told Adam he better find them things to do in different areas of the house.

And of course, Adam and Hannah hadn't exactly worked things out. There had been a fair amount of yelling back and forth over the alarm clock…and everything else on planet earth. He never could figure out how they started fighting about one thing and ended up on something completely different. Stuff he'd not even realized he was upset about. Or he hadn't been upset till she mentioned it. Or something. After he had time to calm down and think, usually their arguments seemed kind of stupid. Like now. Did it really matter who screwed up last night? Whether she'd forgotten to set the alarm or he'd knocked over the clock, the end result was the same. Yeah, it made for a heck of start, but they managed. Of course, he had to go to the principal's office because of it, but whatever the actual cause, it hadn't been intentional. Wouldn't happen again anytime in the near future as they were both gonna be paranoid for a while. So the argument seemed kind of dumb. He just wished he could stop his temper before it got him into a yelling match.  
He pulled a glass out of the cabinet and turned the knob on the faucet. Nothing. He turned it off and on again and watched a couple of drips come out. He squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his nose. Never. Gonna. End. "Brian!"

From the living room, "Yeah?"

"Can you come here?"

"What is it?" Annoyed.

Adam chuffed a laugh. At this point, it was that or cry. "Can you _please_ come here?" Annoyed wasn't gonna begin to describe Brian in a few seconds. Adam heard the dissatisfied sigh, but Brian was coming. Adam leaned against the counter and folded his arms.

"What is it, Adam?"

Adam twisted the handle. Brian followed the action, and Adam counted down to the expected yell of, "Aah, man! What _now_?"

Adam looked at him patiently. Hard to be surprised at this point. "It was working this morning. So I guess it's either the pump, or we've got a leak." He smiled sweetly. "Gonna need your help."

"Adam, I just got dry! And I only got one hand!"

Adam nodded sympathetically. "That's a sad story; need help with your slicker?"

Brian looked ready to smash his head through a wall, but Adam couldn't help that. He pushed off the counter and walked to the living room. Crane was working at the desk, and Hannah was upstairs.

"Crane, we got no water. Me and Brian're gonna check it out."

Crane looked pole-axed for half a second and then rolled his eyes. "I'll come with you." Resigned.

Adam raised his voice, "Hey, Hannah, we're going out to check the water pump."

She came out to the stairs, "What's wrong with it?" She looked tired. Adam knew he was part of the reason. Something else he needed to fix.

"Don't know yet. We just don't have any water."

"It's been raining all day, and we have no water?"

The irony struck a chord, and Adam saw a smile cross even Brian's sour mug. Thank God for the breath of air she brought to the house. "We'll be outside, honey."

**SB4SB**

Hannah wished she could say the afternoon was better. Were they under a dark star? Had someone broken a mirror or walked under a ladder? She didn't recall any black cats. Had to be something going on though. _Had_ to be.

She and Adam had spent a significant amount time arguing, made worse by the anger she felt when he stayed in the barn. The only saving grace was that none of his brothers were around. She rolled her eyes at how much they enjoyed having front row seats. Maybe it was just that they got to see someone else fighting with Adam. Whatever it was, they purely loved the spectacle.

When Brian and Crane got home, she and Adam called a truce. It was immediately clear that Adam's brothers were not getting along. The air between them was frigid. Hannah emptied grocery bags and checked off the list while Adam got updated on the injury and treatment of Brian's thumb. Finally, the three of them took off in different directions, leaving Hannah to put away the groceries. No big surprise.

She was back upstairs folding clothes when she heard about the water problem. God sure must have a sense of humor. At least she managed to get a smile on their faces before Adam and his brothers headed back outside.

Turned out there was a leak, and the guys spent a couple of hours fixing it. The fact that they kept the parts and supplies on hand said a lot about the general state of the water pump. They'd been back inside just long enough to get clean and dry when Guthrie slammed into the house.

Hannah just stared. He was wet, of course, having run up the drive from the bus stop. But when he pulled his slicker and jacket off, his clothes were literally _covered_ in…some orangey-brown something. "What happened to you?"

His face was kind of…surly. Which was unusual for the youngest brother. "I had a little _problem_." Sarcastic even.

"I can see that." She fingered his collar, "What _is_ this stuff?"

"Spaghetti. I did my best to clean it off, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't yell at me!"

It felt like a slap. "I wasn't yelling—"

Adam interrupted as he came downstairs. "Watch your mouth, young man. Don't be sassing Hannah; she was just asking."

"I didn't sass her!"

"Yes, you did!"

Brian had also gotten up to inspect Guthrie. "Adam, lay off him, huh? Let's just find out what happened, okay?"

"Whatever happened, he doesn't need to take it out on Hannah!"

Hannah watched them go back and forth and saw Crane over at the desk doing the same. She hated when the brothers fought with each other. Especially when she was in the middle. "Look, let's just find out what happened. Guth?"

He looked at her with apology all over his face. She offered a little smile of forgiveness, and he lightened up a bit. He didn't like arguments much either. "Y'all know Neil Dary's kind of a klutz, right? See, there was some water on the floor of the cafeteria…"

Hannah listened with sympathy as the tale unfolded. When he got to the part about Murphy's Law in Murphys— _Murphys Squared_ —they all ended up laughing. Especially after he told them that Eddie Barton didn't understand the reference. Guthrie was a clever kid. Hannah couldn't wait to see what kind of man he grew into.

She was getting him a clean shirt from the dryer when Ford came in and headed upstairs without saying hello. Or anything else. When she got back to the living room, Adam and his brothers were watching Ford slam the door to his room. "What was that all about?"

Adam slumped to the sofa and rubbed his face with both hands. "Aaahh, I don't know. He gets so dang moody when he's upset. And finding out what's bothering him is like pulling teeth." He sounded completely worn out. Needed some loving.

Crane walked over, "C'mon, give him a break. You remember how hard that age is."

Adam aimed a less than patient look at Crane, and Hannah was about to stop another fuss when Daniel came in slinging water. Alone. Hannah stepped to the window to check for Evan. She shook her head to the guys' silent question and tried to remember if Evan had dance class. Maybe she had gotten her days mixed up, but then she recalled that dance was tomorrow.

Brian looked at Daniel, "Where's Evan?"

"Beats me. What happened to you?"

Hannah was surprised at the abrupt subject change, but then she realized the younger guys didn't know about Brian's mishap.

Brian glanced at his sling like he'd forgotten, too. "I dislocated my thumb. Where's Evan?"

Daniel shrugged dismissively, "I don't know."

Adam stood up. "What do you _mean_ you don't know? He left for school with ya this morning!"

Daniel also seemed a little ticked off as he pulled the mail out from his slicker. "Well, that's the last I saw of him. He didn't show up at lunch."

"Daniel!"

"Look, man, don't jump my case! That's all I know, all right? We waited after school for him, but he didn't show up. A guy came by and said Evan was in sixth period, but he didn't show for the ride home. Troy had chores, so we had to go. Evan knows what time we gotta leave." He dropped his books on the coffee table and started riffling through the mail.

"Well, how's he gonna get home?"

"Adam, he's a big boy! He'll figure it out!" Daniel pulled out an envelope and eyed it angrily, blowing out a frustrated breath. Hannah wondered about the letter as Daniel abruptly crumpled it up and shoved it into Crane's chest on his way to the kitchen. "I got chores!"

Crane watched him go and then pulled the crushed envelope flat. "It's his last letter to Stormy. 'No forwarding address.'"

**SB4SB**

Crane lightly tapped a knuckle on the closed door.

Finally, Ford opened the door and stood there looking beaten. "Hey."

"Hey." Crane just waited a minute, trying to get a sense of the problem. Adam was right—Ford was a clam when he got upset. Most of the McFaddens could barely restrain their tempers, but Ford was more like Crane. He stuffed it down, holding on tight, till it exploded like Mount St. Helens...sudden, loud, and with potential for a lot of peripheral damage. Like when Crane blew up at Molly and Daniel after she said she was leaving. But…Ford was the one needing help right now. "Ya all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Quiet.

"I'm not so sure." Crane watched his brother's face…tough to get a read. "Not like you to come straight up and not even speak. Slam doors."

Shame flashed across his face. "Sorry about that. Bad day."

"Well, you're in good company if it's any consolation. Doesn't seem like anybody in the house is doing too good. Want to talk about it?"

Ford began to shake his head, then started to say something. He grimaced and stood there thinking.

Crane could only imagine what was going through his head. "C'mon, let's sit down, and you can tell me about it."

Crane straddled the desk chair as Ford crawled on the lower bunk and started explaining. It wasn't so much his 'friends' or that his note cards were ruined. Or even that he tripped in class and everybody laughed. It was that Cleo was included in 'everybody.' And that the story of his spectacular fall had made the rounds by the end of the day.

And of course, there was nothing Crane could do about any of it. He couldn't fix the note cards; he couldn't make the two little jerks that Ford counted as friends into decent human beings; he couldn't abracadabra a do-over for the class. And brotherly advice wasn't always worth much in any real sense. But in Crane's experience, a brotherly shoulder might make the load seem a little less heavy.

"You know, this is gonna sound pretty clichéd, and I don't want it to; but you'll get over this."

Ford rolled his eyes and looked away.

Crane scratched one brow before trying again. "That didn't come out right. What I mean is that it won't always seem this bad. When I got arrested for taking our feed out of the warehouse, I felt lower than a snake's belly. But that faded. Everybody that mattered was supporting me. The people that didn't…not such a big deal. And as bad as today's been, it's almost over. Tomorrow's a fresh start. And I'd bet money that Cleo will be holding your seat on the bus in the morning."

Ford kept staring at nothing in particular, but he finally looked up and offered what might almost be a nod. Or maybe a shrug. Whichever it was came along with, "Yeah."

"Yeah." Crane paused and glanced at the rain on the window. "Chores?"

Ford stood up. "Yeah, I should get started."

Crane joined him. "Did Evan mention going somewhere this afternoon?"

"No. Where is he?"

Crane shrugged, "Don't know. But he isn't home yet. Daniel says he doesn't know where he is."

Ford's shoulders slumped. "So I gotta do his chores, too?"


	6. Chapter 6

Evan plodded through the rain. He was drenched. And cold. The rain dripped off his slicker, his nose was running, his hands were freezing, and his socks and boots squelched with every step. His jeans were heavy with rain and chilling him to the bone, and even under his slicker, the rest of his clothes were still wet and cold from earlier. He couldn't remember a worse day.

The crazy beginning gave no clue of the calamity that lay ahead. The disaster really started when he lost his English paper. That stupid paper. He should've just chucked in the towel when he realized it was gone for good. But instead, he headed back to school, still hoping no one at home would realize he'd messed up so bad. The day was screwed already, so he didn't imagine it could still get worse. Boy, when he was wrong, it was like the Mount Everest of being wrong.

After school, he got a ride back to Murphys with another friend. Yeah, Troy could've dropped him at the Stevens' barn where he'd stabled Diablo, but then Evan would have to explain everything to Daniel. And he wasn't sure his brother would cover for him after this morning. So rather than dealing with a ticked off brother, Evan just found another ride from school.

Then this nightmare journey home. Just a couple miles from town, Diablo threw a shoe…the left fore leg that Molly did surgery on a few months back. Evan would walk through fire before risking Diablo's leg—and potentially the horse's life—by continuing to ride, so Evan started walking. That was an hour ago, and he still had at least another hour yet. By the time he finally got home, there was no way he could fudge a story good enough to stay outta trouble. His brothers were gonna kill him…if he didn't die from pneumonia. Too bad he couldn't re-shoe Diablo and just keep going. Probably be a lot less trouble if he just disappeared altogether.

**SB4SB**

Adam looked down the table and chewed the inside of his lip. All present and accounted for except Evan who was still AWOL. And it wasn't so much that he was late…it was just that no one knew _why_ he was late or where he was or when he'd be home. It was dark already. Doggone it! Where had that idiot kid gotten off to? He knew better than to make them worry like this!

Brian handed off the mashed potatoes. Adam scooped out a helping, followed by a spoon of gravy in the center. Glancing up again at the break in the dishes going around, he assessed his family.

Brian was managing okay with a sling. Growing up on a ranch, a guy got to be pretty ambidextrous just from everyday work. Brian might need some help cutting the cubed steak, but otherwise he was fine. Not in a great mood, but…well, none of them were.

Adam resolved to ignore Evan's empty chair. Stupid kid.

Brian and Crane were a little cool with each other. And might be for a few days. They were good brothers and enjoyed each other's company, but when they got into it, they tended to stay there for a while. They got mad at each other, blew up, and then went cold. Usually needed some time to thaw. Crane had done Adam a solid by talking Ford around, though. Having a brother who could usually keep calm as opposed to the quick tempers of Adam and Brian was a huge asset.

At the other end of the table, Hannah seemed to be better. She and Adam had sure been through it today. It started in bed this morning and grew to an inferno by lunchtime. Since then, they'd both calmed down a lot. He still needed to apologize, and knowing her, she probably would, too. Funny how he was pretty much the only one who could make her lose her temper. She kept her cool with the rest of the boys and handled them easily—like she'd been doing it for years. Like their mom. Amazing woman, his wife. He was a lucky man. He ought to remember that a little more often.

Hannah's gaze flicked over to Evan's empty seat, and Adam knew she was worried. Their eyes caught. When she quirked a crooked grin, Adam couldn't help his own. Even tired and probably still a little angry, they were thinking along the same lines—regretting their argument and worried about the kid. And Adam was gonna kick Evan's butt for getting her upset.

Guthrie seemed all right. A little quiet, but not too far from normal. He smiled at Hannah as he passed the bread. They were okay. Adam probably shouldn't have flown off the handle at Guthrie. He'd had a bad day like the rest of 'em. Hannah was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But she hadn't deserved his back talk, and Guthrie might remember that the next time he was tempted to give his bad mood free rein. Adam couldn't help the sympathetic grin as he thought about Guthrie's clothes. Adam had been wet and dirty half the day, but at least he hadn't been covered in smelly spaghetti sauce.

Ford picked at his food, not really interested, but Adam wasn't too worried. Ford had always been a bit of a puzzle...kind of the exception that proved the rule in the family. Adam didn't always know how to approach him when he had a problem. Sometimes, Ford just didn't want to share. Today, Crane handled it, and from what Adam understood, the problem had to do with Cleo. Who was a sweet girl and probably had no idea she'd upset Ford so much. And wouldn't have done it for the world if she'd known his reaction. But Ford would hole up and lick his wounds for a day or two, and then he'd be fine.

Passing the meat to Daniel, Adam studied him briefly. Daniel hadn't shared what all had gone wrong with his day. And he might not. He told the family he didn't know where Evan was, saw the undelivered letter to Stormy Weathers, and went out to work on the truck. The carburetor had been giving them trouble lately, and Daniel took it apart on the porch. That was one of the ways Daniel handled problems: he tinkered. He kept his hands occupied but allowed his mind to pick over whatever was bothering him. And at eighteen, he was old enough to handle most situations without needing or wanting an older brother to take care of things. So Adam tried to take a step back and just be around if Daniel got out of his depth. And whatever Daniel had dealt with today, he clearly wanted to keep it to himself right now.

Daniel's eyes slid over to Evan's empty seat, and he shook his head slightly. Angry…and maybe a little concerned. Like Adam himself. All they had gotten from Daniel was that Evan made it to school, hadn't been seen at lunch, and hadn't shown up for their ride home. Adam was pretty sure there was more to it, but Daniel wasn't cooperating. And knowing his stubborn streak, Adam tried not to push. No need to panic. Yet. Evan was probably fine. Of course, he was. And after the day Adam had already had, it would be nice not to get into it with Daniel, too. Especially since Evan was gonna catch holy heck when he finally got home.

Evan's continued absence reminded Adam of a cow stuck in a bog. A heifer would keep bawling till she got attention. No matter how much Adam tried to convince himself that she would eventually get out on her own, he could still hear her. And no matter how many times he told himself that Evan would be home soon with a good explanation, his mind just wouldn't settle down. After losing their parents, Adam couldn't help his tendency to expect the worst. The longer the delay, the more worried he got. And worry usually flipped to anger…which was easier. It was controllable—sometimes. But the underlying worry tended to feed the anger. And Adam was fast reaching his limits.

Brian cleared his throat with a quick glance at the empty chair beside him. "Ford, you sure Evan didn't mention going anywhere?"

Impatiently, Ford dropped his fork. "How many times do I have to tell you? He never said!"

"Okay! Sorry!"

"You guys were here! When did he get Diablo?"

Adam's head turned involuntarily, "What?" His peripheral vision caught that everyone's attention was now fixed on Ford.

"Diablo's not in the barn. When did Evan come get him?"

Adam's glance found surprise and shock in Hannah, Crane, and Brian. Clearly, this was news to them, too. Adam thought back to the morning. "I worked in the barn till eleven. Diablo was there when I came in the house." To Brian and Crane, "You guys haven't been out there, have you?"

Short negative shakes were the uniform response along with confused expressions.

Daniel folded his arms, "He wasn't at lunch; but when me and Troy were waiting after school, Aaron Munsey came by and said Evan was in sixth period. If he got Diablo _after_ school, I would've heard him from the shed or seen him from the porch. Had to be before that. Maybe he came home during lunch?"

Adam shook his head impatiently. This made absolutely no sense. At some point between eleven and four o'clock, Evan had managed to get home and leave again on his horse with no one the wiser. But why would he come home and then go back to school if he'd decided to cut class and take a ride? _In the rain?_ Adam rubbed his neck in frustration. Doggone it! His idiot brothers were gonna put him in an early grave! When he finally got hold of Evan, Adam was gonna knock him into next week—

The screen door squeaked behind him. Adam got tangled in his chair as he jumped up to catch a glimpse of Evan sliding in. " _Where the hell have you been?_ " Exclamations echoed around him—anger from Brian and Daniel, surprise from Guthrie.

Then Hannah surged around the table. "Adam!" When she grabbed Evan's hands, they were shaking. "Evan, you're freezing, get in here! Guthrie, grab your quilt." She pulled Evan over to the stove. "Ford, shove my chair over here."

Panic surged up Adam's throat, and he pushed through to where Hannah planted Evan in front of the still warm stove. She thumbed Evan's gray face for half a second. His eyes were dull and distant, and his teeth chattered despite efforts to clamp them shut. Involuntary tremors shook him from head to toe while his clothes dripped on the floor.  
"Get his clothes off!" Crane reached from behind the chair to pull at Evan's slicker.

Kneeling in front, Adam pushed the denim jacket back and started unbuttoning Evan's shirt. Guthrie got back with the quilt as Hannah used a dish towel to dry Evan's hair. Daniel worked one boot while Ford pulled on the other. Unable to do much with his bad thumb, Brian called out, "Evan? You okay?"

"S-s-sorry."

Crane pulled off the jacket and shirt once they were unbuttoned and then grabbed Guthrie's quilt. "Are you hurt?"

Evan managed a negative head shake and muttered between chattering teeth, "N-no."

Once Adam saw he was wrapped in the quilt, "Let's get his jeans off. Guthrie, get him some sweats. Don't forget socks!"

Guthrie scrambled through the laundry room as Daniel and Ford pulled Evan to his feet. Adam worked the fly, and he and Daniel peeled the frigid, heavy denim off. Crane rubbed Evan's arms, trying to warm him with friction. Hannah placed a couple of clean towels in the still warm oven to get them ready to wrap his hands.

In minutes, Evan was again seated in front of the oven, in dry clothes, wrapped up in the quilt. His hair was drying quickly in the warm heat, and he was no longer shivering so badly. Color was starting to chase off the unhealthy skin tone that had scared Adam when Hannah pulled Evan into the light.

Adam took a second to catch his breath as he assured himself that Evan wasn't hurt and would be fine once he warmed up. He dropped into Guthrie's chair with a sigh of relief, trying to slow his thumping heart. His brothers really would be the death of him one of these days. Just like that old Candid Camera line, _'Don't be surprised if sometime, somewhere, someplace when you least expect it…'_ one of his brothers was gonna give him a heart attack.

Kneeling beside Evan, Hannah examined his eyes up close. "Are you all right?" A light caress on his cheek.

Evan sighed in weariness and turned into her touch with a nod. "Yeah. Sorry I'm late." Resigned and apologetic. He had to know he was in for it. Although, Adam knew he was gonna have trouble handing out more punishment.

Brian leaned against the table, "Where've you been? What were you doing out in the rain?"

Daniel propped against the refrigerator. "Yeah. What've you been doing today?" Challenging.

Evan looked up at him, apology stamped on his face. "Sorry about this morning."

Daniel's face softened a bit, and one shoulder lifted slightly in a half shrug that signaled forgiveness of…something. Then his brows lifted in question.

Evan blew out a deep breath. "Remember my paper was due in English?"

Something flashed on Daniel's face. "Yeah, you mighta mentioned it a couple dozen times."

"Well, somehow in the rush this morning I managed to lose it."

Hannah groaned softly, "Oh, Evan, you worked so hard on it."

He shrugged slightly. "I searched my books, our locker, everywhere at school. So I figured I left it here."

Adam was starting to get an idea, and he caught Brian and Crane's eyes as their heads started to shake in disbelief.

Evan glanced at Adam again before dropping his eyes. "So I got a ride home to come look for it…but it wasn't here either. I must've dropped it between the house and the truck or in the parking lot at school. Anyhow, I never did find it."

Crane held up a hand. "Wait a minute, back up. You got a ride home, and it wasn't here. When was this?"

Evan fidgeted a little, looking like he'd rather be in front of a firing squad. "I got here between eleven and twelve, I guess."

Brian and Crane traded a look, "Before we got home."

Adam eyed Evan, "Hannah and I were here; what were we doing?"

Evan's gaze slid between Adam and Hannah, and he licked his lips. "Sounded like you were upstairs."

Adam glanced at Hannah who reflected his own remorse. They had been arguing, or they might've heard Evan come in.

Evan sighed again, "So when I realized the paper wasn't here, I saddled Diablo and rode back to Murphys. I stabled him at the Stevens' place and hitched a ride back to school. I didn't want to get in even more trouble for ditching."

That explained how he missed lunch but was back at school for the end of the day.

Brian prompted him, "But why are you so late getting home?"

Evan bit his lip. "Diablo threw a shoe right outside of town."

Brian's lips twitched, and he couldn't keep the amusement completely from his voice. "You walked the rest of the way home?"

Evan fought a wry grin with small nod.

The kitchen was quiet for a few moments before Guthrie's snicker triggered an avalanche.

In the center, Evan rubbed his eyes, then his face, and finished with the back of his neck. "It's not funny," but his voice proved even he saw humor in it.

Hannah stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a mock strangle. "Ohhhh! You guys're driving me crazy!" She planted a kiss on the top of his head.  
He leaned back against her fondly. "I really am sorry."

Crane squeezed Evan's shoulder. "What did your teacher say about your paper?"

Evan shut his eyes. "I never went back to see her. I figured I'd just scratch out something tonight and turn it in tomorrow. It won't be as good, and it'll be late, but it's better than nothing. At least I won't get a zero."

Daniel pushed off the fridge and ruffled Evan's damp hair. "Don't worry about it. I turned it in for you."

Evan looked at Daniel in shock. "What?"

"I found your folder in my stuff. I turned it in to Miss Klein this afternoon."

Evan clearly didn't understand. "It wasn't in the locker."

"I didn't actually stop at the locker this morning, Bozo. We were interrupted just as we got there, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Evan looked sorry all over again.

"Yeah. Jerk." But Daniel said it with a slight tease in his voice. "I was gonna give it back to you at lunch, but you didn't show up."

Evan groaned softly in disbelief. Adam saw the irony: Evan came home, looking for the paper Daniel had at school. Adam watched Daniel and Evan have a wordless conversation. Clearly, something had happened between them, but it was doubtful they'd ever explain it. Those two were pretty tight, and Adam guessed there was a lot they got up to that never made it back to the family. Of course, he hoped a lot of what he and Brian had gotten into never made it back to their parents.

Guthrie looked back at the table. "Supper's cold."

Evan glanced at their forgotten meal, but his eyes lit up, "I love cold cubed steak. I think it's better than when it's hot."

Adam studied on that. Come to think of it, he liked it cold. Brian didn't seem upset about the idea either.

Hannah glanced at them and then rolled her eyes as she pulled the skillet back on the stove. "Hand me those mashed potatoes, and I'll fry 'em up into potato cakes. Crane, can you warm the gravy? Ford, you and Guthrie slice the rolls and then you guys can eat your cold cubed steak in an open sandwich."

Everybody laughed at the new menu, and Adam was happy about the prospect of the day ending on a good note. A great meal with everybody safe at home, around the table, enjoying each other's company. Relaxed and glad the day was almost over. Finally.

Evan stood and pulled the quilt from around his shoulders, handing it to Daniel to fold. Adam hugged Evan close, relieved he was okay. Brian pulled him into an embrace after Adam turned loose.

"Why didn't you just call and have whoever answered the phone look for your paper?"

The whole room stopped to find out the answer to Guthrie's question. Evan started to answer but didn't. Then he tried again…and nothing came out. One more time, and he finally shook his head, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Adam couldn't begin to imagine how that convoluted plan might be a good idea, but after the day they'd all had, maybe it wasn't such a stretch.

Daniel threw an arm around Evan's neck and gave him a gentle noogie while mocking a growl.

Evan managed to twist away without too much trouble. "Gimme a break."

"I was ready to break your neck. And you _deserved_ it." Daniel kept his voice relatively soft so their conversation was mostly just between them. Adam wasn't sure anyone else heard it.

"I'm _sorry_." Adam could see Evan meant it.

Daniel shrugged forgiveness then his brows went up in question. "Beth?"

Evan smiled faintly with a brief nod in response.

"Hmm. How 'bout that?"

Adam shook his head. Whatever the problem was, they'd already worked it out. Just as it appeared Brian and Crane probably had as Crane fussed good naturedly about Brian using his hand too much to put the chairs back around the table. And Adam and Hannah had mostly forgiven each other except for the fun part of the fight and make up balance. Ford and Guthrie were poking at each other, and Guthrie was telling his Murphys Squared joke.

They'd all had a bad day. A really bad day. But it was almost over, and tomorrow would be better. It just…it _had_ to be. He hoped. Adam sent a brief prayer and glance upward. Please?


End file.
